


My New York Valentine

by followyourenergy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Best Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, I can’t believe there’s a tag for waffles, Love Confessions, M/M, New York City, Pining, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Waffles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 03:52:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followyourenergy/pseuds/followyourenergy
Summary: Dean Winchester plans to drown his sorrows in waffles after picking another fight with his best friend since childhood, Cas, on their friendversary... which happens to be Valentine’s Day. His plans are stymied when he’s stopped on the way back to work by a man who wants to take his photo and chat with him. When the man asks about love, he tells him about his secret love for his best friend. Little does Dean know his secret will soon be revealed.This fic is inspired by Humans of New York, a popular Facebook page that tells true stories about everyday people in New York (and elsewhere).





	My New York Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> A little mindless fluff for Valentine’s Day! (Truthfully, this is probably the most celebrating I’ll do of the occasion, ha! It’s not really a big deal in our household.) This is inspired by Humans of New York. If you haven’t seen it, it’s pretty neat. I love stories, and I think everyone has an incredible story to tell. 
> 
> Happy Valentine’s Day to all of you!

Dean Winchester stands outside a Wafels & Dinges near his workplace in New York City, contemplating life and which combo of waffle (“wafel,” whatever) and toppings he wants for lunch today. He’d been planning to go light, since he was going to cook for Cas tonight for their anniversary (not their _anniversary_ anniversary, of course, but their _friendversary_ … it’s a thing!), but since they fought this morning Dean figures he might as well eat his feelings. Stupid Valentine’s Day. Why does their friendversary have to be on this stupid holiday that taunts him every year, reminding him that he’s still firmly in Cas’ friend zone? He sighs. He wanted to tell him tonight, but that won’t happen now. He should’ve known. Every holiday Dean plans to tell him, and every holiday Dean sabotages himself by causing an argument because he’s a chicken shit.

Dean goes with the BBQ Pulled Pork Wafel— it’s hot and messy, like his headspace today. Because he’s in a bad mood, he also orders a WMD, a waffle loaded with strawberries, bananas, whipped cream, and chocolate. He tells himself that the fruit makes it healthy. As he waits, he looks around at the people hurrying by. Many of them are by themselves, but he mostly notices the couples. He sighs and wonders how he’ll apologize to Cas this time. He hates fighting with his best friend. The worst part about their fight was the look of bewilderment on Cas’ face about the whole thing, like he had no idea what he did wrong… probably because he didn’t do anything wrong, but Dean left before he could tell him so. The cashier gets his attention, and he pays for his order and takes a bite or two before tucking the container into the bag and walking back toward the American Museum of Natural History, where he works as a conservator.

Dean is still thinking about Cas when a tall guy, probably his brother’s height, walks toward him with a camera— not an unusual occurrence in the city, but it surprises him when the younger man stops to talk to him just before he gets to the entrance. The man takes off the beanie he’s wearing, exposing his ears to the cold.

“Hi,” the man says as he introduces himself with an affable smile. “Do you mind if I take your photo and maybe talk for a minute?”

“Is this some political bullshit?” Dean asks. The last thing he needs is to be pulled into _that_.

“No, no, it’s a project I do around New York, just taking photos and asking people about their lives.”

The guy looks harmless enough; Dean assumes he’s a grad student working on some project. He remembers the agony. “Sure,” he shrugs, introducing himself to the guy as he pushes away his bad mood and places his bag by his feet. “Ask away.”

“Are you in love with anyone right now?” he asks.

 _Well, that’s a hell of an opener_ , he thinks. He takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he answers after a moment, a half-smile on his lips as he thinks of Cas because _oh_ , he is so in love with the man.

“What’s the hardest thing about being in love?”

The question is a little deeper than he expects, and Dean is starting to regret stopping, especially since there’s a little audience forming around them. He gives the man a rueful smile before answering, “Um, probably keeping it a secret.”

“Why are you keeping it a secret?”

Dean forces a breath out of his lungs, and the vapor floats around them in the cold. “It’s, uh, complicated.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s my best friend. Means everything to me, you know?”

The man nods. “Tell me about him,” he prods curiously. “How’d you meet?”

Dean smiles, as he often does when he thinks about Cas. “We were in third grade. My brother and I just moved to town to live with my uncle after my mom died and my dad went off the rails. I was pissed off at the world, you know? I’d only been at my school a few weeks and I picked fights whenever I could. Just hoping to get kicked out or something, I guess, I don’t know. I wasn’t handling things well. Anyway, Valentine’s Day came around. We passed out cards in our class, and Cas was the only kid to give me a valentine. It was one of those fuzzy ones, you know what I’m talking about? It had a gray bunny on it AND it had a Blow-Pop attached. Nobody else got one like that. Cas invited me to sit with him at lunch that day and I never picked another fight.” Dean licks his lips shyly and ducks his head. “We grew up together and went to NYU together. Been through everything together, pretty much.”

“What do you love most about him?”

Dean glances at the steel-gray sky that threatens snow, a dreamy glaze over his eyes, before he looks back at the man. “I don’t know. He’s just the best guy you’ll ever meet.” Dean smiles, chewing on his chilled lip. “He’s funny and quirky and puts up with my neuroses.” The man laughs and Dean joins him before he continues. “He just gets me, I guess. Sounds stupid but it’s true.”

“He sounds like a great guy. Have you ever thought about telling him?” the man asks kindly.

Shifting his feet and running his fingers through his hair, Dean says, “Every day, just about. Was gonna do it today since it’s our friendversary, you know? But I chicken out every time. I just don’t know how to bring it up.”

The man nods and doesn’t rush to fill the silence, much like Cas, which has the same effect: Dean keeps talking. He lifts his hands and drops them in frustration.

“I mean, what am I supposed to do?” he asks, shaking his head. “Do I sit him down and have a serious conversation? I'm not really good at that stuff and I know I’d just end up making some stupid joke ‘cause I’m nervous and ruin the whole damn thing. Or do I make some grand romantic gesture, like, violins in Central Park or something? I don’t know.” He runs his fingers through his sandy hair and continues, “Do I just casually say, 'Hey, uh, FYI, I'm in love with you, and can you pick up some milk on your way home?'”

“Want me to pick up bread, too?” a warm, deep, too-familiar voice asks. _Shit_. Dean turns and sees his best friend smiling softly at him and, after his confession that Cas clearly heard, says the only thing he can think of.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I figured you’d be on your lunch break, and I wanted to bring you something,” he smiles. Dean looks down at Cas’ hands, which are holding a bouquet of Blow-Pops.

“Cas,” Dean murmurs bashfully with a small smile.

“Just wanted things right again between us,” Cas confides as he returns Dean’s smile in earnest, teeth just peeking between chapped lips.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dean admits.

“I know,” Cas shrugs. Dean pouts and Cas grins and holds out the pops. Dean, never one to turn down the sentimental treat, reaches out for them. Just as he wraps his hand around them, Cas pulls them aside and moves swiftly into Dean’s space, tipping his face up toward Dean’s and kissing him softly. Dean forgets the chilly weather and the grad student and the crowd of people around them and returns his best friend’s kiss, his lips melding with Cas’ as if they’ve been kissing for years.

“I love you, too, Dean,” Cas says with a smile when they part. Dean rests a hand on Cas’ face, keeping him close as he absorbs this new information he can hardly hope to believe. Cas brings his free hand up and pulls them just a bit closer, pressing their noses together.

There’s a smattering of applause and they look around at the chilly, smiling New Yorkers who are offering their support, and then at the friendly man who’s been taking pictures of them.

“Thanks for chatting, Dean,” the man says, shaking his hand. “And good timing,” he says to Cas, shaking his hand as well. “I’ll assume you’re Cas.” The new couple and the small crowd chuckle as Cas confirms his identity. “Congrats, you guys. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, then walks away and blends into the people rushing to get back to work after their lunch breaks. The crowd disperses, leaving Dean and Cas staring at each other while New York moves on, as it always does.

“Friendversary lunch?” Dean asks, picking up his abandoned waffles.

“How about our first date?” Cas asks, his eyes a striking, sparkling blue against the gray of the asphalt and concrete of the city.

Dean looks down at the bag of waffles, now cold and soggy. “Not an impressive first date, Cas,” he says, frowning at him. “You deserve a lot more than cold waffles.”

“I don’t need anything fancy. I just need you, my Valentine,” Cas grins.

“Sap,” Dean chuckles, shaking his head. “Come on. Let’s go eat cold waffles and lollipops, Valentine.” He takes his hand and leads him into the museum. “Think that guy got what he needed for his project?” Dean asks Cas as they round the corner toward the employee lounge.

“The guy taking photos and asking you questions? You don’t know who he is?”

“No? Should I?”

Cas laughs. “Let’s just say you sort of accidentally made a grand, very public romantic gesture that won’t be limited to the few fine citizens of New York who were outside with us,” he smiles, shaking his head before stealing a kiss.

That night, Dean and Cas’ declaration of love is all over Facebook, liked by thousands of people and inspiring thousands more to take a chance on love. But Dean and Cas don’t see it until the next morning, too busy making their declarations all over again.


End file.
